The smaller room in the Ainsworth mansion was silent, enveloped in a soft light that streamed through the tall windows and spilled onto the low table where a tea tray had been placed.
Amelia sat with impeccable posture, holding the cup between her fingers with distracted elegance, watching the steam rise slowly.
Irelia, seated opposite her, had relaxed enough to rest one elbow on the arm of the armchair, her other hand cupping the cup as if the warmth helped organize the thoughts still swirling within her.
The atmosphere was no longer as tense as before, but it wasn't light either; it was the kind of silence that only exists after a storm, when everything is still too damp to feign normality.
Amelia was the first to speak, breaking the silence slowly, her eyes still fixed on the clear liquid in the cup.
"Let's be honest," she said, in a tone too calm to be casual. "We both know he's going to end up having several women, right?"
